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Jul 2020
Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.

Thou eyes may shine bright,
Though the way you’ll see
Crosses in cradles
Several, nay all, sin ‘fore thee.

Your hands could be firm,
Though what should you grasp?
Little to hold onto,
Little will last.

Your ears may be wishful,
But what would they hear?
“‘Only’ thirty three deaths today”,
Not one reason to cheer.

You could have been my world,
I can’t raise you in this one,
I love you my darling,
I’m sorry my son.

Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop
When your beat goes,
The pain will all stop
...

Who am I to take a life?
I know not of the pain,
Do I own the right,
To take from thee, no name?

Your skin wouldn’t be fair,
Nothing in your life would be,
But polar opposites you’d bear,
In articulation you’d be free.
Perhaps we could escape the hate,
Escape the world’s woe,
God will have to hold the gate,
I cannot wait to see you grow.

Rock-a-bye baby, do not you fear
Never mind, baby, mother is near.
Written by
William Edwards
246
 
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